


Checkmate

by RacingHeart



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 20th c.
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:51:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9688403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RacingHeart/pseuds/RacingHeart
Summary: Hillary devises a plan to beat Bill at his own game.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was the beginning chapter of Seven Devils before I went a different direction. And it's just been sitting on my computer so I altered it and made it into a one shot.

Checkmate

 

Hillary found them in Bill’s private study. Monica’s hands on his chest, his hands tangled in dark hair. Kissing. She quietly shut the door behind her and just watched. They interacted unsure, uneasy, fumbled really. Bill wasn’t stupid, he knew that he could use her naivety to his advantage. He loved the thrill. And who wouldn’t want to have an affair with the most powerful man in the world? The young woman had stars in her eyes, that much Hillary could see from across the room. 

“You know I was thinking…” Hillary’s voice boomed throughout the quiet office. And Bill and Monica, startled, broke apart. 

Bill opened his mouth to speak. 

“Don’t you dare.” she warned him. “I haven’t been humiliated in a while, at least not publicly, and I think I prefer not to be as First Lady of the United States. Is that too much to ask for?”

Bill shook his head. “Hillary…”

“Mrs. Clinton, it’s not…”

Now that was too much for her. Hillary cut her off with a sharp slap to the face. “I hate being patronized.” she bit out. “I can obviously see what’s going on right in front of my face.”

Monica held her hand over her bottom lip. The taste of blood flooded her senses and especially her taste buds. Tears filled her eyes but she didn’t dare let them fall. She didn’t dare move either. 

“Let me see.” Hillary’s voice became softer, she pulled the intern’s hand away so she could look at her handiwork. “Well, that won’t do.” There was a small laceration on the girl’s bottom lip, and it was bleeding like crazy. 

Bill stood silently. Ducked his head, feared her next move. The wrath of Hillary Rodham was not one he wished on his worst enemy. 

Hillary carefully examined Monica’s lip. “Hold still.” she instructed, grabbing her chin to still her movements. “This needs to be cleaned up.”

“It’s fine.” Monica protested. “Really, it is.”

“Come upstairs with me.” It wasn’t an offer or a request. 

The halls were practically empty and they made their way into the residence without incident. Hillary instructed her to sit down on the vanity stool while she got the first aid kit from under the sink. 

Hillary eyed her carefully. “Sting?”

Monica looked over at the closed bathroom door, the floor, anywhere but at the First Lady. “A little.”

Hillary took out the necessary supplies, the peroxide and some cotton balls, and sank down to her knees in front of her. Oh, the irony of the situation. She dabbed at Monica’s busted lip with the peroxide coated cotton ball. Her ministrations almost maternal. “How far has it gone?”

The intern tried her best not to flinch at the sting of the antiseptic. She was trembling on the inside. Her fear of the First Lady had her on edge. “Just some kissing and touching. We’ve never…”

Monica fidgeted uncomfortably.

“I know it stings but it’s better than an infection.” her voice was soft and she was being incredibly delicate in her first aid. “There.” she announced when she was done cleaning up the wound she had inflicted. “Much better.” Hillary leaned in, letting her lips lightly touch over the barely visible wound. A kiss of regret, a kiss of apology, a kiss of death. “Okay, now?”

When Monica didn’t pull back from her, Hillary’s mind kicked into gear. Now this was a game they both could play. She was going to teach Bill a lesson once and for all, beat him at his own game. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“I think I’m going to have a scotch.” she said, standing up. “Would you like one?”

“I don’t drink much.” she offered. “But, yes.” she quickly added. “Thank you.”

It didn’t take long for one drink to turn into two and two drinks to turn into three. Hillary held her liquor quite well. The young woman in front of her not so much. The gravitation from the sitting area to the bed didn’t take much coaxing on Hillary’s part. 

Monica talked to her about all sorts of things. Where she was from and about where she was going to college. And in return she asked the First Lady about law school and working on the Nixon impeachment. 

“You know I’m really sorry about earlier.” Monica offered up, words starting to slur. “About all of it. I don’t know what I was thinking, I guess I really wasn’t.”

Hillary nodded. “It’s not entirely your fault, dear.” 

Monica had started slipping into that place between drunken haze and sleep. And as Hillary watched her she formulated a plan. One to send Bill through the ceiling. 

/////

When Bill entered the bedroom several hours later, shock stopped in his tracks. Clothes were everywhere and Monica was in their bed. Naked from what he could tell. He looked around for his wife. If this was her idea at payback, then she was sadly mistaken. It was a time bomb getting ready to blow up. A very dangerous line to cross. 

Hillary came into the bedroom from the private hallway. Her open robe concealing nothing. “What took you so long?”

He looked from his wife to the intern in the bed. “What’s going on here, Hillary?”

She shrugged as she made her way toward the bed. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” she sat down on the bed. “Awfully vanilla if you ask me.” she reached over and brushed dark locks out of Monica’s sleeping face. “Pretty girl though.”

He was practically seething. “You didn’t!”

She got up off the bed and walked toward him.There was fire in her eyes and ice in her veins. “Oh, but I did.”

And she waited for him to call her bluff. Of course, she was lying. She hadn’t laid a hand on the girl, other than slapping her earlier, but that wasn’t a detail that he needed to know. She prayed that he couldn’t see through her. That he would take the evidence in front of him for what it was. 

Bill grabbed her by the wrist, twisting her arm so that he was certain he had her attention. "What the fuck?”

“She really is quite good with her mouth.” her eyes burnt into his. “A little inexperienced, but good.”

“Please.” he was crumbling in front of her. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

Their yelling had woken a drunken Monica. It didn’t take long for her to realize she was in the President and First Lady’s bed. She wrapped the sheet around herself, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Sobs overtook her, getting the attention of the fighting spouses. 

“Oh, look who’s awake.” Hillary said, freeing herself from Bill. “Sleep well, dear?”

Monica’s head was thumping. She was naked and the First Lady practically was as well. Her eyes darted to the President and then back to the First Lady. But her memory failed her. She had no idea what had happened or how she had gotten in their bed. 

“Hillary.” his voice barked. 

“She’s just a little confused.” she said. “In a few days she’ll be just fine.”

“Why did you do this?”

“You know how much I like an even playing field.” she smirked. “And now that it’s even I want you to choose. Me or her.”

Bill’s eyes never left his wife. “You already know the answer.”

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

“You.”

Hillary picked up Monica’s clothes and laid them on the end of the bed. “Get dressed, Monica.” she told her. “From now on you work for me. I’ll see you in Hillaryland bright and early in the morning. And don’t come in hungover.” 

“Yes, ma’am Mrs. Clinton.” 

“I’ll deal with you later, Bill.” Hillary told him. “Right now I’m exhausted and I want to shower and go to bed. Just know that you owe me. Big time.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“Save it.” she told him. “Now get out.”

Bill never once glanced at Monica again. He simply nodded at his wife’s instructions and left the bedroom. He knew he had fucked up and he also knew he was going to pay. And dearly.

Hillary smirked. She had finally beat him at his own game. “Checkmate.”

 

-Finished.


End file.
